


Scream

by ZiziTopsider



Series: Death's Blossom [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Death, Gen, Injury, Not Really A Happy Ending, Reader Insert, Reaper finally being a spooky boi, Unless you Reaper, gender neutral reader, then it's good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:20:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27133072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZiziTopsider/pseuds/ZiziTopsider
Summary: What once used to warm his spirit now taunts him
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Reader
Series: Death's Blossom [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2113182
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	Scream

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this is my only contribution to Spookytober since I didn't really want to commit to writing 31 days worth of goodness. Please be sure to check out those who are participating after this!

There weren’t many things that made the eldritch spirit feel alive anymore. Over the decades he has traveled the world, experienced everything and anything that there was to see and do. Back when he was human, this time of the year was almost akin to Christmas to him. As the neighborhoods he lived in would fill with decorations, he was sure to outdo them all. Smoke machines, spiderwebs and statues galore, he would turn his once traditional victorian home into stuff of nightmares.

When the time would come for it, there would be lines forming just outside the gates of his front yard where trick or treaters or thrill seekers would sit and wait for their turn through the maze that led up to his porch. If they were too frightened, he stepped in to point at another way for them to travel in order to get their treats, but those who would venture the whole way were greeted by the ghastly sights of him in many costumes that took months to create. Each scream was a gift on their own, and he enjoyed it thoroughly.

Now he stands behind a massive pine, claws digging into the bark of the massive trunk as the shrill delights and sounds of his once favorite holiday taunted him. The only positive thing about this night was the fact that he could roam freely without fear of standing out too much. He would never dare risk it though, no that was too much trouble. He simply stuck to the shadows, watching people who once considered him a friend live their lives as if there weren’t terrible atrocities just outside of their safety bubble.

With his hand dragging against the wood, he slipped back into the shadows, slipping in between homes and cars. Each street he traveled down, he seemed to catch the scent of something...sweet. It wasn’t sugary like the candy the children ate, wasn’t floral like the bushes in those yards. It was faint, but the more he dove and slipped around corners the stronger it became. His travels took him to the side of an apartment building four stories high. The complex was simple, quiet unlike the homes a street over from them. These must belong to the young professionals who were too old to venture out on their own to participate, too young to tote along small children and too secluded to be invited to parties.

Out of the three floors, one was lit in a low light. With the window open, the chilled October air breathed into the screened window and took with it that enchanting smell. Breathing in deeply, the raspy air he let out revitalized the blood in his cold veins. As if being struck by lightning, he finally figured out what the scent was and it had him salivating. It was such a rare treat, something almost unicorn in a way, but he had to have it. The blood of an innocent, pure in intentions, thoughts and expressions. Many told tales of people like this still existing, but to finally get close enough to _taste_ it’s richness in the air?

Purpose and intent pumped through his muscles, his form dissipating in a cloud of smoke as it scaled the side of the building, circling the edges of the windows before finding a crack on the bottom. Slipping through, his form pooled on the wooden floors in search of a dark corner, surveying the rooms for anyone besides his prey but finding none. The television was low, some inane voice chirping on about a product he didn’t need to sustain him any longer. He was slightly annoyed, a growl rumbling in his chest momentarily before he cut it off, afraid to alert the dweller before he could get the jump on them.

As he sunk into the confines of the open closet, he reformed and peeked out to see you on the couch, the bunch of your hair peeking out just above the massive cushions. You seemed to be losing the battle of sleep quickly, defiance being the only thing to keep you going. Honestly it wasn’t worth it, the blanket you had over your legs was comfortable, pillows propped just nice and empty wine glass on the coffee table a small sign of the victory it would soon have over you. With a yawn, you rubbed your eyes and adjusted on the couch to sit up a bit straighter and to clear up the darkness that creeped at the corners of your television.

Or was it your eyes?

As it snaked its way across your vision, a chill ran down your spine. Before you could react, there was a sharp pain, the scent of earth and moss and then darkness. As you fell to your side, clawed hands held you secure before lifting you with ease. Swaying with their heavy steps, the fog in your eyes cleared just enough for you to catch the outline of a sharp white mask. With a groan, your hand flopped uselessly to the intruder’s chest before you were out. He regarded you for a moment, studying your breathing and face before continuing into your room. With more care than he offered his victims, you were placed on the bed with your head propped up into the pillows and limbs straightened out.

The wraith struggled to retain his sanity, the bloodlust taking over his senses but he had to do this right. If he tainted the taste, things wouldn’t be worth it. Reaching into his pocket, he searched for a pouch brought out for just the occasion. Within moments, the needle was ready to inject into their arm. As it pierced the skin, you flinched but were soothed by leather knuckles tracing your jaw, cool metal grazing your lip. Flicking his finger away, blood spilled down the curve of your lip to your chin, splintering in different directions.

In your mind you were in bed, body heated with a buzz of desire as a mysterious man stood at the doorway. His gaze locked you in place as he began to unbutton his shirt, pulling the bottom out before removing it. As he crossed the room, your legs slowly spread and a moan purred in your throat, tongue darting out to lick up what you thought was saliva. The bed sagged with his weight as he crawled over your body, his thighs parting your legs the rest of the way while his hands rested at each side of your head.

Your breath picked up as he closed the distance between the two of you, plush lips landing on the sensitive skin of your neck. He kissed from the side of your ear down to the junction at your neck and collarbone before he sunk his teeth in. The sudden shock of pain startled you out of the haze of the drugs, arms flailing weakly at your sides while heavy eyes fluttered open. Through lashes you caught a glimpse of a heavy jacket barely remaining on powerful shoulders. From the dim lighting of your room, smoke appeared to waft off of their clothing in waves.

Sensing your movements, the intruder pulled away from your neck to study your face. Blood dripped down his beard, sharp teeth tinted red with the snarl. Equally haunting red eyes shocked you to silence. A feeble whine bubbled in your throat, tears pooling at the corners of your eyes. Tilting his head to the side, a serpentine tongue peeked out and cleaned the sharp rows of teeth before a deep voice vibrated through you.

**”Sleep.”**

Blinking heavily, the last thing you saw was his mouth open inhumanly before his needle like teeth pierced your throat and drank the essence of your soul.

As the last breath hissed out of your cold parted lips, his laughter filled the room. Cleaning what was left of the mess off of his face with your shirt, he quickly situated himself, relapsing his mask to his face. Just as silently as he came, he left down the side of the building, the rippling of his clothing fading into heavy boots on pavement. A fleeting thought passed through his mind that made him smile. Maybe Halloween could still be a good holiday.

In the morning, people will remember why they should fear late October. For once a year, death walks among you.


End file.
